Saturday, July 14, 2007

Of Questionable Taste

The Rockrose Moon (A Serial Fiction) Part 35

Gross. The guy I spent the night with wanted me to get up early and go riding with him on his daughter’s bike! I’m sure she’d love that. I don’t do bike helmets. There is no way to look good with one of them on. It is kind of like sun visors. Only the very best looking tennis players get away with wearing them and then barely.

This is a guy that won’t eat anything that isn’t purchased for a gazillion bucks at Whole Foods. Doesn’t he realize that John Mackey is an arrogant fool if not technically a crook?

My dad drilled the basics of the market into me when I was a little girl, he used to test me on puts and calls and selling short when we would go to the grocery together on Saturday mornings when Mom got to sleep in. I know the impulse for market manipulation. Dad always wanted me to know this stuff in case I ever heard any tidbits that might be interesting because men thought I was just a pretty girl. He didn’t want me getting in trouble for how I used that information.

Mr. Mackey might know a market when he sees one but he is an idiot for talking up his stock like that.

It must be a guy thing. We were in bed last night watching the rerun of the Nicolas Sarkozy interview with Charlie Rose in January. I was willing to watch it because I could practice my French. Anyway, he kept saying I would be arrogant if I said that in response to the question. Well, yeah.

I can see his charm though, why he won the election, the weird forceful little man with old man hands appeal. I screamed when Mr. Rose used the word notion though. He needs to have a current of electricity buzzed through him for using that word in every interview where he loses himself in his so obvious intoxication with nearness to POWER.

I would be criticized up the wall and down the other side if I used a word even twice in a poem and in a book of poems… but Charlie can say the word notion any time he pleases. And we have to listen to it.

Speaking of French today is of course the Fête nationale and here in Portland we are celebrating it. I used that as an excuse to get out of the bike ride.

I did learn a cool French word this week louche.

Your mission, use it in your next poem. Only once.